Finally Alive Again
by Alyssa85
Summary: Three years since war, five years since the betrayal. Set after WW2.


**DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything but the storyline! All characters belong to Hidekaz Himaruya.**

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It had been three years since the end of World War Two, and things were finally calming down. Countries that had been at each other's throats were making up, helping each other out. The world was almost at peace again. Sure, there were still tensions, still countries that hated each other, resented each other for the mess they'd made.

Despite fighting for the Allies during the final years of the war, we were still outsiders. Still looked down upon for helping cause the mess. Not that I cared. I hadn't even wanted to fight for them. I wanted to stay by Germany's side, wanted to fight (or not so) for him. With him. But that hadn't been possible, they called me a traitor. Even my brother looked at me in disgust. I still didn't care though. I'd hurt Germany.

I remember the day I stood by my brother's side as he announced to Germany himself that Italy was going to war with him. He had looked at me, his eyes colder than usual. I bit my lip, tears in my eyes. He thought I betrayed him. Thought I wanted to do it. That I wanted to leave him, and help the allies with the victory. I didn't care about winning. I just cared about him, and how he'd helped me for so long.

I hadn't had the courage to go and see him. I knew he'd lost Prussia to Russia, I knew essentially he had no one. Sure, Japan was still his friend but I couldn't imagine Japan having the time to just drop by and see him, not with the damage America had inflicted on his country. I knew he'd be alone. But, I also knew he wouldn't want to see me. He wouldn't want to come face to face with the person who'd betrayed him, and was a help in his downfall.

Romano had been so happy when we declared war on Germany, in fact, he was actually smiling. Grinning from ear to ear knowing he'd finally be fighting with the people he really wanted to win. He hated having to fight with Germany. The day our new bosses told us we had no choice but to fight with the Allies, he'd wanted to throw a party. I, on the other hand, sulked. That day, when the Allies landed in the South, I cried myself to sleep.

It was a little past midnight, on the anniversary of declaring war on Germany, that I decided it was time. It was finally time to visit my old friend, and try to make amends. Or more, force Germany to listen to me whine until he gave in and forgave me. I put some clothes on, wrapped myself up warm and began my journey.

Even after so many years, I remembered the route perfectly. From every turn, to every path I needed to walk down to get there. I still got a little scared as I made my way through Switzerland, weary of the nation becoming trigger happy like he usually would, but nothing happened. I made it through Switzerland with no trouble.

It wasn't long before I was standing outside the house I one knew so well. I'd spent many years here before the betrayal, many nights sneaking into Germany's bed to sleep beside him. I ran my fingers over the worn, white bricks, not surprised to see they lacked the dirt an old house would usually have. Germany must have cleaned them recently.

I gulped nervously. Now I was there, I realised, what if Germany didn't _want_ to see me? I could see the hurt in his eyes that day. Surely he'd have hated me, resented me? He sure hadn't tried to contact me since the war ended, I'd heard nothing. Nothing but the rumours that he'd not really been himself after the end. I didn't blame him for not contacting me though, I wouldn't have contacted me.

Finally, after standing idly on his doorstep, I knocked. Unlike in the past, I only knocked once, scared of annoying Germany before I'd even opened my mouth. I stood there, on his doorstep, rocking on my heels as I waited for the door to open, and when it finally did, my breath hitched. Germany stood there, his hair dishevelled, and his night clothes wrinkled.

Neither said anything, we just stood there, our eyes locked. I couldn't tell what he was thinking, he didn't look angry, but he didn't look happy either. His face was blank. I wanted to step forwards, act as if nothing had happened. As if I hadn't left him to fight against him, but I knew I couldn't. Not even I could pretend that I hadn't betrayed him.

"I-Italy?" Germany finally broke the silence, his eyes now wide in curious confusion.

"C-ciao, Germany," I said, my voice low, scared that if I was too loud he'd finally come to his senses and slam the door in my face. "I-it's been a while."

"You should go home." Germany didn't sound angry, his voice was strained, almost as if he was holding back tears. As if he was trying to make himself sound stronger than he felt at that moment. I wanted to wrap my arms around him, wanted to whisper my apologies in his ear as he held me tight, but I didn't. I clasped my hands behind my back and stared up at him.

"I-I don't want to."

I could tell Germany was taken aback by my words. He shuffled back slightly, his feet scuffling across the carpeted flooring. I tried a smile, I wanted to let him know that I was sorry through my expressions, the way I used to.

"Why are you here?" His eyes didn't leave mine, they bored into mine leaving me feeling weak at the knee, my heart racing in my chest. I'd missed those eyes, the way the sharp blue reminded me of the sky, and the way they made me feel safe.

"I wanted to see you."

"Why?"

"I missed you."

Germany shifted slightly, almost looking uncomfortable. I never wanted to make him uncomfortable. Maybe it was selfish, me going there, I was only thinking about me and my needs. Why hadn't I thought about his? Why hadn't I taken into account what Germany might have wanted?

"Really?"

"Yes. Very much." My words were firm, there was no room for misinterpreting them. I stared up at him, a sad smile on my face. "I haven't ever stopped missing you."

I watched Germany's Adams apple bob as he swallowed, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. I could tell he wanted to say something, maybe he wanted to shout at me? Call me names, or belittle me, but I didn't care. I just wanted him to say something.

"I'm sorry, Germany."

I was expecting a lot of reactions from him at that. I was expecting him to yell, to slam the door in my face, or maybe even a punch or two, but I wasn't expecting to be pulled tightly against his chest, or the tears that hit my head as he held me tight against him. I cried too, my tears wetting the front of his black tank, my hands fisted into it at the back.

We stayed like that a while, both crying, the cold October air chilling us to the bone, but I didn't care. Standing there, wrapped in Germany's tight embrace, was all I cared about. I could ignore the chill, the shivers that ran down my spine, as long as Germany held me.

Germany finally broke the hug, his eyes rimmed red and his cheeks blotchy. I'd never seen Germany cry. I'd refused to go to the meeting after the war, the meeting that decided what would happen to Germany now that he'd fallen so far. Romano said he looked stupid, I disagreed.

I ran my thumb over his cheek, happy when he willingly leaned into the touch, his eyes fluttering shut. Germany rested his forehead against mine. I could feel his warm breath on my face, my own eyes closing at the sensation.

"Italy…"

"Yes?"

"Did you want to?" He was whispering, his voice strained. I wasn't sure if it was from crying previously, or holding back a fresh new set of tears.

"Did I want to what?"

"Declare war on Germany."

My mouth twitched, tears threatening to fall from my eyes. "O-of course not. I would never hurt you willingly."

"I know. I was just making sure."

"You forgive me?"

"There's nothing to forgive you for. I saw it coming."

I froze, my heart pounding in my chest. He had seen it coming? He knew I was going to betray him? I intertwined our fingers together, and finally opened my eyes. He was staring down at me, his sharp blue eyes soft.

"You did?"

"Ja. My boss was readying to invade you. He said your boss was falling, and soon enough Italy would turn. I argued for weeks with him about it."

"Oh…"

He'd fought for me. Argued with his scary boss, completely against hurting me in anyway. I felt my heart flutter, new tears forming in my eyes.

"Don't cry, Italy. There's no need to cry." Germany wiped at the spilled tears, his calloused fingers tracing paths on my cheeks. "It's all over."

I embraced him again, my head resting over his heart, listening to the loud beating. He rubbed my back, soothing my sobs, whilst whispering that it was okay, that finally, everything was okay. No more wars, no more fighting.

We eventually retreated to his living room. The fire crackled lightly in the background as we sat on the sofa, his hand running through my hair. It felt nostalgic, like right there, with Germany, was exactly where I belonged. Finally, for the first time in almost five years, I felt like myself. I felt like I was finally alive again.


End file.
